The Heart of a Monster
by memoryoflightwaves
Summary: Gregor Clegane holds a peculiar interest for Myrna Beaumont in my story "The Killer in Me is the Killer in You". Experience the adventure again but through the eyes of The Mountain that Rides. Rated M for violence, language and sexual content.
1. Chapter 1

Beneath him he kicked his black horse to a faster trot roughly with his massive boot as they neared their destination. Beaumont Hall was hidden in the Wolfswood, but for the Mountain that Rides nothing was out of reach. The metal of his armor clanked every time his horse pushed off the ground sending him bouncing in his saddle heavily. If it had not been for the bag of coins jingling in a bag hanging off the side of his horse given to him by his master, then Gregor would not have bothered to travel all this way to knight some northern boy named Nicholas Beaumont. As he increased in speed, so did his men behind him and some gave a cry of joy as they saw their long journey coming to an end. Without slowing down, the men noisily entered through the gate and startled nearly all of the townspeople. He was told to find the largest manor, which stood out just as he did amongst the rest of the world. A family of four stood in a straight line awaiting them, and a crowd had gathered along the sides to watch the anointment. The knight's family did not interest him in the least and he overlooked them. Everyone grew silent when they saw him and his men, which was not unusual. Ser Gregor Clegane stepped off his horse as he saw the supposed heroic young lad standing with his family take a few steps towards him and kneel down on one knee with respect. Somehow, he was disappointed in the way the boy appeared to him.

"Nicholas Beaumont?" he made sure he was not wasting his time and that this was the boy he was to make a ser.

"Yes, ser," Nicholas replied keeping his head down low.

_You are no killer_. Gregor eyed him with frown lines deep in his face before grabbing his long sword to place it on Nicholas's shoulder. Gregor could feel his sword being pushed up slightly by the boy panicking from the heaviness of it. _This is a waste of fucking time_, he thought but despite the annoyance of the little hero in front of him he went on to say the words that turned Nicholas into a ser.

"Now you may rise, Ser Nicholas," Gregor put his sword back in his sheath and continued to judge the lad. His master had told him that this one may be suitable to become one of his own men. _This one won't be ser for too long if he works for me. Not my bloody problem, though._

People around began clapping and the noise bothered him. A familiar pain throbbed in his temples, and he tried to ignore the pain as much as he could but soon it became overwhelming. In need of relief, he sought to find alcohol. Marching towards the small town's tavern, he heard the friendly chatter hush as everyone saw him enter. He paid no mind and soon heard a few of his men follow him inside the tavern and they all took a seat close to the back of the room. A long evening began, and one filled with drinking.

He had lost count of how many cups of wine he had, but he could not seem to find his fill. When he would grow tired of his men's pointless banter, the massive man would examine the room to see if any women interested him. With every cup, his urge grew more and soon he would stop to care about how pretty the woman was. Unfortunately for him, the tavern was mostly men his age or older and he let out a sigh that nearly sounded like a gurgle from the thickness of his tone. _Perhaps I could fuck the new knight, he is prettier than most of the bitches in this pathetic town. _If his head had not felt like it would going to implode, he may have let himself laugh. Somehow he had hoped the wine would drown out the pain, but tonight was one of his bad nights. Gregor blinked hard to try and deal with the throbbing and his attention was drawn to one of his men telling a story obnoxiously loud. He was clearly drunk. What the man did not see was that someone had spilled something on the floor next to his chair and with a wrong step he slipped. His cup flew out of his hands and the clumsy man spilled his ale all over Gregor's lap. His men went silent, and the one who had the accident looked like he wet his pants.

Horror filled his face and he went to his knees and begged for mercy. "Forgive me. An accident it was!" he bowed and bowed but when Gregor stiffly stood up the man clumsily pushed himself up and darted out the door. The man was running for his life.

All the eyes in that room were stuck on Gregor as he followed the man and stepped out the tavern door, ducking so he would not hit his head on the board above the doorway. His annoyance grew as he felt his pants sticking to his massive thighs and the smell of ale lingered on him. Gregor's migraine added to the irritation and fury that pulsed throughout his body. When he stepped outside a cool breeze greeted the tall man and the wind seemed to carry music coming from a nearby hall. Many candles burned within the hall and the light poured out of the large windows. The night did not seem so dark when you stood near the hall. The townspeople were dancing in merriment and laughter filled the hall, all because of a boy taking vows in their town. Though the sight was warm and welcoming, Gregor still felt like an unwelcomed stranger in this tiny town and he clenched his teeth. Remembering what he was doing, Gregor took out his long sword with the intention to kill and paced quicker as he saw his drunken fool of a man run outside the gate. When Gregor closed in towards the gate, he grabbed the already cautious guard and demanded which direction his man had run off to. With a shaky finger, the guard pointed where he had run off to and Gregor threw the guard to the ground. He had thought about shoving his sword deep into the guard's torso and watch him bleed out, but he wanted to savor the moment for the fool that was cowardly running away from him.

"Leave," Gregor growled down at the trembling guard. He started off with a crawl, and eventually pushed himself to his feet and ran somewhere deep in the town.

His search had turned out better than he expected. Only within a few minutes towards the direction the guard had pointed out to him, Gregor had stumbled upon his man sprawled out on the grass that was damp with dew. When the man saw him, he began to sob. From what it looked like, the man had taken another tumble and this time broken a bone in his leg or ankle. He was on his stomach, his legs dragging behind him as he was crawling as best he could with just his arms. No matter how hard he tried, he knew there was no way to escape the Mountain's fury.

"Not a good night to drink, is it?" Gregor squinted down at the man and nearly smiled as he readied himself to kill this man. The adrenaline rush eased his pain, and his smile tightened from the pleasant relief.

"Fuck off, Gregor!" he had managed to find some dignity in his last moments despite his face being wet with tears.

As if to spend a moment longer to enjoy the struggling and discomfort the man was experiencing, Gregor slowly took his steps toward the man and leered down at him. Eventually, his man closed his eyes and began to pray as he flipped himself over and rested on his back. That took Gregor off guard, and he became slightly angry. Without wasting more time, Gregor bent over and grabbed his man by the front of his tunic and lifted him up in the air with little effort.

"No ears hear your prayers," he grumbled at the man. "You buggering idiot…"

The precious moment finally came and Gregor lodged his sword through the man's stomach. He felt the blade rip through tissue and slide against his spine and finally saw the tip exit out of the man's back. Blood leaked out and the man vomited dark red blood, the blood pouring out of his mouth just as it poured out of the fresh hole in his stomach. In the middle of enjoying his work, a high-pitched noise distracted him. _A girl's voice. But who and why are they out here? _Gregor loosened the grip of the dead man and let him fall back to the ground. He turned around and tried to pin point where the small shriek came from, so he wandered about for a minute. Nothing. All he saw was oak trees and the night sky beyond their newly budding branches. Curiosity rarely held its grip on the massive knight, but after some time went by he decided to give up and return to business. Back towards the body, he loomed over the corpse and wrinkled his nose as he decided on what to do with it. _I suppose I do need a new man now_, he thought. Gregor did not like to have men in small numbers, but he made sure not to have too many either. A voice interrupted his thoughts and he turned to see Nicholas.

"What… What in seven hells did you do to him?" the young knight shook his head and he stared at the corpse as if he had never seen one before. Nicholas's dark eyes were wide and made him appear apprehensive, but he stood his ground as he gave his attention to Gregor. "This is not what knight's are meant to do. Killing one of your own? That's… ludicrous! You should be ashamed!" he stammered as he nervously grabbed the hilt of his sword as if he expected a counter attack.

_It seems that guard couldn't keep his bloody mouth shut._ Gregor regretted not killing the guard when he had the chance and looked down at the corpse as an idea appeared in his head. Nodding, Gregor started to walk towards Nicholas as if he were not a threat in the slightest. Nicholas took baby steps back, but found enough courage to stop and his chin rose as Gregor came closer, growing taller with every step. They both stared into the others eye as Gregor stopped before the young knight, and quickly Gregor grabbed Nicholas's arms. The young knight held onto his sword but once he realized he could not use his arms he began to panic, and eventually Gregor wrung the sword away and threw it a couple feet off to the left. Nicholas was flipped around and shoved to the ground as Gregor twisted his arms behind his back. "Killing one of your own is ludicrous, you say? Aye, then _you_ bloody well should be ashamed," he cackled.

AN: Hello again! I'm going to assume nearly everyone reading this story has read my other fanfiction "The Killer in Me is the Killer in You". If you have not, please read that story first as this story will not make much sense to you if you begin here. Note that it is a Sandor Clegane x OFC story, but Gregor plays a big part within the story so here I am rewriting the story through his eyes. Other than that, I hope you enjoyed the first chapter. As you may remember from Myrna's dream, their first real encounter happens really soon so watch for the second chapter. Thanks for those of you who are giving this different POV a chance. Game of Thrones belongs to George R.R. Martin.


	2. Chapter 2

"Aye, you should be sorry. That was one of our own, and one of his brother's he slaughtered out there!" one of Gregor's men spat at Kevin and Ina Beaumont, the parents of Nicholas Beaumont outside of their manor the next morning.

Ina held her face as tears ran down her red cheeks and Kevin gently asked her to go inside and be with their daughter. With his hand he wiped away his wife's tears, most likely to try their best not to alarm their sleeping daughter when they tell her what has happened. Nodding, she silently obeyed her husband and walked back in while shutting the manor doors behind her. As Gregor observed the area he had seen the once close town now broken and distant from one another. They seemed wary about the Beaumont's now, but not one ounce of guilt burdened the Mountain's heart. For now, he wanted to have some other man step in his place and be the monster. The entertainment of seeing the newly knighted lad stripped of his titles and sitting on the ground bound in rope could not rid of his headache, as it would seem. Nicholas would not even look him in the eye. There was no use in toying with him if he did not respond properly, so there was a good chance he would just slit the boy's throat along the long journey back to Casterly Rock. Gregor would need to check in with Tywin Lannister, his master, before going back home to Clegane's Keep to inform him on the situation. A shame that this was a waste of time, he would need to hint his master to compensate for that if Tywin did not want a problem.

Tired of the company he was with, Gregor decided to return to the tavern for a moment to buy some wine for the way back south. As he walked back to where the tavern was located, he stopped and saw that the tavern was closed. The flash of agitation initiated a headache, and his hand found its place on the hilt of his sword but he did not take it out of its sheath. _Control yourself_, he repeated inside his head. Somehow he had managed to loosen his grip on the hilt of his sword, and Gregor turned himself around to return back to his men.

"I didn't kill him! I swear!" Nicholas was now starting to squeak like a rat in a cage, and Gregor hoped that the fun he would have with this boy would relax the tension inside his pained overgrown body.

In front of Nicholas, he leered down at the boy. "Yesterday I knighted you, and you repay me by taking the life of one of my men," he lied, but no one dared to deny what he spoke. Gregor knew no one had it in them to step up. At least, that was what Ser Gregor Clegane always thought until that moment.

"My brother didn't do it, you did!" he heard a familiar high pitched voice shriek towards his direction.

Glowering at a girl in front of Kevin and Ina Beaumont who had appeared from inside the manor he realized that she must be Nicholas's little sister. Though she was not so little, but a blooming young lady. If he were to guess, she would probably be around thirteen. The sight of her filled him with an urge and he almost had to scoff at realizing there actually was a pretty bitch in this dreary northern town. _Too bad she wasn't around last night when I needed a good wench_, he thought but then he realized that she may actually have been near him that previous night.

"I saw you… I saw you last night. You shoved that sword right there into the man's stomach! You called him a… a buggering idiot!" the girl continued her accusation.

_So someone did see me. This girl was the damn noise I heard after I killed that man. _Gregor could not allow some young girl to make a fool of him. Stiffly, he began walking towards the young girl. Out from the corner of his eye, he saw something move with speed. Before him, Nicholas desperately threw himself onto the ground and begged for mercy for his little sister while his arms were still bound with rope. _Pathetic boy_, he thought angrily and gave Nicholas a hard kick in the side to move him out of the way. The kick sparked a cry from Ina who was now being forced away from her daughter by Kevin. _At least one of these damn Beaumont's are smart enough to get out of the way_, he thought when he glanced at the father for a second before giving his attention back to the girl.

Once he was in front of the girl he went down to one knee, but he still towered over the little thing. Gregor gripped the girl's chin tightly and examined her. That was when an unexpected feeling overwhelmed him. He blinked rapidly but continued to grip the girl's chin tightly as he stared down deep into her dark eyes. They were the same as Nicholas's, but they were much more fitting on her. Her eyes were beautiful, and matched her curly dark locks. The girl had her arms behind her back as if she was hiding something, but he did not care to find out what. It was her eyes that hypnotized him. For what seemed like a long moment to Gregor, he finally found something to say.

"What did I call that man again?" he asked her. A fool this girl is for confronting him, but she shows no fear. Her legs may be trembling slightly, but her big dark eyes were full of determination and looked deep into his own mean eyes. Gregor could not remember one time where a female had showed so much courage while in the midst of his fury. This type of reaction was more alluring than fear, and Gregor was the kind of man who truly enjoyed the fear in the eyes of women he raped and killed.

The young girl inhaled and exhaled slowly as if to keep a straight face. "A… a buggering idiot…" she reminded him even though he did not need to be.

Gregor caught himself smiling. That was when he realized that he no longer felt any pain throughout his body. There was something about this little girl that filled a hole inside him that pained him all day and all night. Whoever this little girl was, she was the best medicine he had ever tasted. However, Gregor pulled himself back into the situation and now he was sure he did not want this girl dead. He could not just leave her go, though. "And do you know what you are, girl?" he made himself sound intimidating. _An idiot as well, but a pretty one._ The best thing he could think of in that moment was to knock her out, which he did with a single whack across her forehead. He heard a cry from Ina once more, but her cry did not bother him as he closely examined the girl a little more. _I will most definitely be back for you…_ he thought calmly in his head as he gazed down at the girl who seemed rather peaceful for just being knocked unconscious.

"Get going," he commanded his men as he stood back up and broke his gaze off of the girl.

Nicholas glared at Gregor, a look that almost seemed as menacing as the way Gregor pictured himself. _You will help me get what I want_, Gregor thought as he smiled devilishly when he had come up with a plan on what he should do. He gave Nicholas a hard push towards the gate that nearly sent him flying back down on his knees. Outside all the men mounted their horses and one of his men threw Nicholas on the back of his horse like he was some fresh kill from hunting. With Gregor leading the way, the men started their journey back south. It was not long before they stopped to rest as Gregor decided to stop at the first inn they saw. Some of his men asked why they were stopping so damn early, but Gregor replied with silence.

Inside the inn there were not many customers. Gregor paid for a room himself and let his men take care of themselves, but before they went upstairs he had growled a command for them to bring Nicholas to him at a table that was set out in the main room. The inn keeper eyed them warily, but made no move to interfere with their business even after seeing the tied up lad being forced to sit by Gregor. Nicholas looked sick, and there was no surprise in that by the way he traveled here. His shoulders slouched down and he looked like he was about to lay his head on the table but Gregor slammed a massive fist on the table that made Nicholas perk up.

Gregor waved over one of his men and he came scurrying to the giant man's side. "Remember the man that this lad killed?" he asked him without taking his eyes off of Nicholas. When he asked that question, he saw Nicholas's frown deepen and that made lines on his pretty face.

"Aye…" his man replied even though all his men knew what really happened.

"Fetch me his knight armor and his long sword that he left behind," Gregor boomed and the man left without question to complete his task. Nicholas looked confused and Gregor rested his elbows on the table and leaned forward towards him. "Do you still want to be a knight? I am willing to give you one more chance…" he rattled a question to Nicholas.

The lad's dark eyes were darting back and forth between Gregor's eyes. There was mistrust in his gaze, but also Gregor could see he did want to be a knight still. "I don't understand," was all he managed to speak. Footsteps neared them and on the table landed a body suit of steel armor and next to it a long sword fit for a knight. Nicholas blinked at what laid on the table as if he did not understand. There was also a hard expression on his face as if the events that occurred the night before were replaying inside his head. What laid on the table belonged to the man he was being punished for murdering, even though he saw Gregor kill him. It was understandable for him to be confused, but Gregor was going to make things clear if Nicholas would cooperate. _And he better cooperate with me, because I have no other reason to keep him alive._

"Do you or don't you? This is your last chance to answer me, boy. I'm not known for my patience," the giant knight hissed through his teeth.

Nicholas swallowed and finally he nodded slowly. "Yes," he croaked.

Gregor straightened up and leaned back in his chair as he began to tell Nicholas the deal he had in store for him. "What you have to do in order for me to give you back your title is simple. Put on your new armor here, and carry your long sword. Return home with your damn knighthood that you have always wanted, but return here by me before the sun sets. You will be one of my own, after all. Now listen. When you return I expect to see your little sister riding with you, and she will be mine from then on. The choice is yours. This… or you die along with your precious town. Except for your sister, of course. She will be mine either way," he grinned wickedly.

AN: There is not much to say but thank you and please stay with me as I rewrite my story through Gregor's POV. More chapters are coming. Game of Thrones belongs to George R.R. Martin.


	3. Chapter 3

Nicholas stood up roughly, and his chair went tipping over and landed with a thud on the floor. "Do you honestly believe my town will accept me back after what you've done!?" he roared.

"Make your decision," Gregor folded his hands on his lap as he continued to gaze at the young lad. "Also, this was your doing," he reminded Nicholas. A growl escaped the boy's mouth and Gregor watched as he stood there staring at the floor with an awful, twisted expression on his face.

As if trying to think of how to say something, Nicholas was whispering under his breath to himself before speaking up. "My sister…" he croaked.

"…is mine," Gregor finished for him.

"But why?"

"That's none of your concern…" he was beginning to lose his patience and he slammed his fist against the table again like he did earlier. Nicholas's chin flew up and he met eyes with Gregor. "Who dies, boy? No one or everyone?" he raised his voice.

Nicholas shook his head. "My parent's will not let me near the house, let alone Myrna. How do you expect me to take my little sister when I can't go near her? Besides, she doesn't deserve the likes of you…" his voice trembled.

_Myrna. _Gregor Clegane had finally heard the name of the little sister. For some reason it slipped his mind to even think of asking for her name. Was this truly how bad he wanted the blooming young lady? He did not even process the insult that Nicholas threw at him, and let it slide just because he had finally learned his little sister's name. Myrna Beaumont, a beautiful name for a beautiful young noble lady. _Myrna Clegane sounds much more fitting for such a daring little thing, _the thought of her becoming completely his made him smile. Nicholas had no idea why Gregor was smiling, and Gregor could see him starting to fret. Perhaps he thought he had made Gregor so angry that he had caused him to smile as he thought of the terrible things he would do to the lad. That was something Gregor would normally do, no lie, but right now Gregor was in the middle of something unique. This feeling had never filled Gregor before.

"If your parents are a problem, then take care of them. Did I not just give you some steel?" Gregor rumbled.

The young boy went pale as he glanced down at the long sword that lay on the table next to the armor. He would have to take that sword and put down his parents in order to save the rest of the town and Myrna. Gregor knew this would need to happen from remembering the reaction of his parents when he told them that Nicholas had slew one of his new brothers. That did not bother him in the slightest, and he could do it easily himself but this was more entertaining. Gregor would drink to his fill inside this inn and wait for his new man to bring him a lovely little lady to call his own and bring back south with him. Gregor felt himself stiffening from the thought of her, and now he was at the end of his patience. With a heavy sigh, Gregor stood up and Nicholas looked away from the long sword and up at the massive knight with a wary expression.

"What are you doing?" he asked nervously.

"It seems you've made your decision. Men, we ride back to Beaumont Hall…" the men began to cheer and laugh but then Nicholas cried out like a little boy. The noise was terrible to Gregor, and he watched Nicholas with an annoyed expression as he went in front of Gregor and kneeled.

Nicholas bowed and bowed. "I will do it. I will do it. I will do it…" he repeated himself over a small sob until Gregor spoke up.

"Get up," Gregor growled. Nicholas did just as he was told, and one of Gregor's men went to untie the ropes that kept his hands behind his back. Nicholas rubbed his wrists and Gregor pointed to the table. Slowly, Nicholas shuffled to the table and grabbed the armor first and began to put it on himself. They all watched and a few men made japes about Nicholas behind his back, and once he was finished Nicholas grabbed the hilt of the long sword with a shaky hand.

One of Gregor's men laughed. "Be careful, ya don't want to break a nail!" and the others chimed in. Nicholas turned around and glared at them.

"Gregor can fuck the girl, and we can fuck this one. Pretty, eh?" another japed and the rest hooted in laughter.

Turning red, Nicholas tried hard to ignore them and started walking towards the door. Gregor watched in amusement. Before he left, Gregor called out to him one last time.

"Before the sun sets you will be back here with us and your sister Myrna…" Gregor reminded him and tasted Myrna's name for the first time. Nicholas glared at all of them, but nonetheless he nodded and opened the door. He slammed it shut behind him and Gregor's time to wait began. His men had quieted down now that the boy left and some seemed to want to say something. After a few cups of wine, Gregor turned his head towards one of his men. "What is it?" he demanded.

The man rubbed the back of his head and glanced at his fellow brother's before speaking. "Are you sure it was wise for the pretty lad to go on his own?" he asked.

Gregor did not reply and continued to gulp down cups of wine. The men didn't even bother to ask the question again and talked amongst themselves. _That boy knows the consequences_, Gregor reminded himself. Perhaps he had rushed through this too quickly. He should have sent one of the men with the boy, but it was too late now. The inn was only about an hour away from Beaumont Hall on horseback so he could leave now and see how the boy was doing with his job. _No, that will make me look afraid…_ Gregor made himself slightly agitated and that caused a headache to pain him that late afternoon as he waited impatiently for Nicholas to return. A few hours went by and Gregor squeezed the cup he was holding in his hand as he saw the color of the sky turn into oranges and reds. The sun was starting to set and there was no Nicholas or Myrna in sight out of the foggy window he went to gaze out of.

"I'm going to fuck that little cunt," Gregor hissed as he threw the cup across the room with all his strength making a kitchen wench cry out. The noise caught the attention of everyone in the room and nearly all were immediately frightened. All of his men stood up at once, their footsteps pounding on the wooden floor when they got out of their chairs. Gregor stomped out of the inn, making the doors fly open and pound hard against the wall. They quickly followed Gregor out of the inn as they mounted their horses and rode north towards Beaumont Hall to find out why the boy had not returned on time. The men saw the wall for Beaumont Hall closing in after a short ride, but Gregor came to a slow stop and turned his horse around so he faced his men.

"This is my business. The lot of you will stay out here until I finish the bloody job," he bellowed. His men nodded and stayed where they stood as Gregor kicked his giant black horse to a fast trot towards the gate in the wall. Gregor slowed down when he saw something odd. _The gate is wide open, and there are no guards…_ and Gregor kicked his horse and rode quick again since he felt Nicholas had done more than he commanded the boy. He flew into the town and once again he slowed down and blinked rapidly as his eyes were irritated from smoke that filled the air. _Where is all this fucking smoke coming from?_ Gregor muffled a cough and jumped off his horse as he started to approach where all the commotion was, while waving smoke away from his face. He was so tall, and it was hard to avoid the smoke at his height. When he turned a corner that was when he saw what was causing all the smoke. The Beaumont family's manor was on fire. Gregor tried to make sense of what happened, and saw an elderly man watching people try to put the fire out with a solemn expression on his wrinkly face. He approached the elderly man, and watched as he trembled at the sight of him. He raised his pale hands as if he was yielding and his bottom lip trembled.

"Mercy, ser…" the old man begged.

Gregor yanked the old man by the collar of his tunic. "Tell me what happened. Everything you know," he commanded bitterly.

"Oh, poor Kevin and Ina. They found their bodies burning inside their home… some say they saw a figure running out the back of the manor but nobody was able to confirm that. Oh… oh…" he sounded like he was going to cry and Gregor shook him as if threatening to hurt him if he stopped talking. "Someone also said they saw one of the local boys carry Myrna out the gates. The girl looked injured. Who could've done such a thing? It's no wonder the girl wanted to leave…" the old man turned his head towards the burning manor and Gregor dropped him to the ground. He landed on his back and cried out in pain, and could not get back up himself.

It had been a long, long time since Gregor had experienced this level of anger. He felt his hands trembling, and he grabbed the hilt of his sword. _That… bloody bastard…_ Gregor thought spitefully. "That… fucking _TRAITOR_!" Gregor roared and pulled his long sword out of his sheath and with a cry he shoved it deep into the old man's belly as he lied there on the hard ground. His anger had a tight grip on him and he continued to stab the now dead old man, splattering blood everywhere. "_WHERE THE FUCK ARE YOU, NICHOLAS_!?" Gregor cried out in the middle of the stabbing and eventually he pulled himself away from the mutilated corpse and circled around the area. Any person who was unfortunate enough to be near him ended up just like the old man. His shoulders rose and fell with every deep breathe Gregor took in. _Myrna! I need her!_ Gregor thought about the girl and started to hit his own forehead with a fist from the frustration of losing her. His headache only grew worse, and he regretted his actions. Finally, Gregor stopped and licked his lips as he gazed around at the people still living. They were cowering in fear. Slowly, Gregor walked past his horse and returned to the gate. He saw his men were still in the spot where he had left them, and Gregor let out a sharp whistle. Immediately, his men started riding towards the gate and Gregor stepped aside. They knew what that meant, and not a soul will be alive to tell the horrors they were going to do to the people still alive at Beaumont Hall.

…

Up he walked into the familiar stone stairway that led to his master's chambers. His footsteps echoed, but everything else was completely silent. Small fires lit the way and soon he found the wooden door that led to Tywin Lannister's chamber where he worked in privacy. With a knock, Gregor Clegane entered the room and saw his master busy at his desk, an ink pen in his hand that was scratching away on a piece of paper. Beside the desk, Gregor stood silently with respect and waited for Tywin to find a moment to speak with him. A few minutes went by and the ink pen finally was set down and Tywin glanced up at his mad dog.

"Clegane," he acknowledged Gregor at last.

Gregor bowed. "I'm here to report what happened at Beaumont Hall," Gregor's deep voice was loud within the small chamber.

"Go on," Tywin said coolly.

For once, Gregor could not look straight into his master's eyes. He found himself looking at Tywin's desk as he began speaking. "I knighted Nicholas Beaumont, but he ended up killing one of my men. He escaped me and no one knows where the boy is. His town is… also gone," Gregor blinked a couple times before looking back at Tywin.

Tywin nodded as if he understood what Gregor meant by the last part. "Shame. I thought you could use someone honorable, but it seems that is not possible," he trailed off and found himself grabbing another piece of paper and picked up his ink pen again. Tywin began writing another letter and stopped abruptly when he saw Gregor did not leave. "You are not leaving," he tilted his head as he stretched his neck to look up at Gregor.

"There is something I want, and if I do not get it then you will be in need of a new pet," Gregor subtly threatened his master which he rarely did. The seriousness in Gregor's voice caught Tywin's attention and the ink pen went down again. His master rested his hands on his lap. "Nicholas Beaumont had a younger sister. Myrna Beaumont. She disappeared, but I would be pleased if she were found and given to me as a wife," he glowered down at Tywin and waited for his answer.

"Hmm…" Tywin thought for a short moment before answering. "I have given you three wives already, Clegane," Tywin returned the cold stare.

Gregor smiled. "Now you will give me my fourth one. No matter how long it takes. You will have a constant search party for Myrna Beaumont, and if I ever find out that the search party has given up…" Gregor knew Tywin would never want to lose him. He was feared throughout Westeros, any smart man would want him on their side of the battlefield. This has led Gregor to receive anything he desires, and right now he was in need of the sweet noble lady named Myrna Beaumont.

"Fine," Tywin sighed. "You will have this Myrna Beaumont as soon as my men can find her. Now leave, my dear grandchildren have plans to visit me at any moment," he dismissed Gregor with a slight annoyance in his tone. Gregor bowed once more, and left the chamber.

Down the steps he heard that he was not the only one using the stairway that led to Tywin's chambers. Soon he encountered Queen Cersei, followed by her small three children. Gregor stepped off to the side and kept his back against the wall as he watched them pass him by. However, they were not the only ones there. A royal family needs protection every minute of the day, and behind them was the mutt Gregor despised. Sandor Clegane was Prince Joffrey's sworn shield, but right now it seemed he had all of them under his protection. Tension filled the air when Sandor walked past his older brother. Gregor still remembered the day where he shoved the little shit's face in the brazier. _Let them stare at him just as they stare at me_, Gregor thought cruelly as he watched his little brother follow the royal family up the cold, hard steps. When they disappeared, Gregor returned to leaving the area and going back home to Clegane's Keep where he would eagerly await any news on the behalf of Myrna Beaumont.

AN: Hello and thanks for reading! I hope you are enjoying Gregor's POV of "The Killer in Me is the Killer in You" so far and there is still much more we have to see through his eyes. Please stick around and follow my story so you can catch up right away. Game of Thrones belongs to George R.R. Martin.


	4. Chapter 4

SEVEN YEARS LATER...

Her cries had stopped minutes ago. Once again, the mad dog had dominated another bitch. Smoke filled the air, but he did not notice until he pushed himself off of the woman and fixed the front of his trousers. When she tried to crawl away he took his heavy boot and crushed her knee. A scream escaped her homely, chubby face. Sweat and tears made her messy hair stick to her face which did nothing to make her look better. Across the room laid her dead children, he had taken care of her sons the second he stepped into this small, dirty home. Deciding she was not worth anymore trouble Gregor went to take a quick glance around for valuables. Inside the pockets of one of the boys he had found a small pouch that held three silvers and two coppers. That was better than nothing, and he ducked his head as he stepped out to see how his men had handled the rest of the small Riverland village. The few other homes in the area had their doors wide open, and once had screams pouring out but now they have quieted just as his did. Those who were done were loitering about near their horses that were close to the entrance of the village. Gregor marched toward them and commanded them to set camp as he went to relieve himself behind some trees. _This one was not worth the trouble_, Gregor thought to himself as he straightened himself out and went to sit by a small fire that had just been set ablaze as he walked out of the trees. In other Riverland villages they had found at least thrice the amount of goods that they had collected at this place. Not too much time had passed and soon the rest of Gregor's men had finished their job and joined the camp.

"Ye should have heard the noise this wench made when I fucked 'er bloody!" a newer man boasted as he went to sit by the fire. Others voiced in their devilish victories, and Gregor listened as much as he could before he felt a pain start to fill his forehead. It was about that time, and he sighed loudly. "Huh, who do ye think that is?" the same man asked as he pointed out in the woods.

Gregor glared at the stranger on a horse gallop towards their camp. The man was old, short and tubby. He nearly fell off his horse and had a letter in his trembling hands.

"Ser Gregor Clegane?" his voice nearly cracked. He replied with a long stare. "Er... this is from the capital. For you," he took a few steps towards Gregor and shakily held out the sealed letter. Gregor let the man stay terrified for a few seconds longer and swiped the letter out of his clammy, fat fingers. The suddenness of the letter being ripped out of his hands made the man jump out of his skin. Without delay, he ran back to his horse and puffed as he mounted the horse with difficulty.

His men snorted at the fool. "Go back home, piggy!" one yelled as the short, fat delivery man finally sat on his horse and galloped away into the foggy distance.

Examing the letter, Gregor knew that it had come from the capital by the stamp on the back. However, Gregor had never had the patience as a young lad to learn how to read. His headaches never allowed him to sit through lessons for very long, and once the first maester was injured their father had allowed Gregor to go on without education. What good was it anyway for a man such as he? All Gregor Clegane needed was some steel in his grasp and he was worth more than anyone else in Westeros. Tywin Lannister knew that, which was why he was his master. Gregor had always received everything he desired because of Tywin. _Everything except..._

Shaking off the thought, Gregor threw the letter on the soft ground next to the man who sat beside him. He watched the fire as the man fumbled with the letter and opened it so he could read what lied inside. Fire reminded Gregor of a man he would rather forget. _That day long ago... fire did not end my brother as I had hoped. Curse those who pulled me off of the mutt before the job was finished._ A minute passed before he heard the man inform him on the news.

"The Imp is back home. Ye can return home whenever it pleases ye..." the awkward man summarized the contents of the letter.

Gregor rubbed his temples. "Throw it in the fire," he commanded.

"There's more, ser..." he stammered.

"Then don't bloody stop reading!"

"Right, right," he cleared his throat and began reciting the letter word for word. "I am pleased to inform you, Ser Gregor Clegane, that we identified a young lady who is named Myrna Beaumont. She has been residing at the capital this past year and now that you no longer need to focus on raiding the Riverlands I give you the gift-" the man stopped as the letter was grabbed from his hands and crunched into a ball. Gregor was now towering over the man and threw the letter into the fire. All his men stared at Gregor_. A whole bloody year!?_ Gregor growled viciously like a dog as he circled around the camp fire, nearly stepping on some of his men. Most stood up and stared at the giant knight in confusion. That was when he made his decision.

Swiftly, Gregor paced towards his dark horse and mounted. "We leave for the capital!" he boomed towards his men. All responded without question, and off they went without proper rest. A feeling he had seven years ago lingered in his memory, but he did not necessarily feel it within his body. It was like a craving, but this craving had lasted almost a decade. At least once a day Gregor thought about that blooming young lady he let slip through his fingers. A daring young thing that was perfect for the Mountain that Rides. He tried to picture how she looked today as a fully blossomed woman. She must have been in her twenties now, and ready for marriage by all means. It did not matter to him if she already had a man, he would slit his throat and steal her away with no trouble at all. Gregor did not let his men see it, but he allowed himself to smirk as they ventured away from the Riverlands and traveled south towards the woman who did not realize she was awaiting his arrival.

The journey there was much quicker than it should have been, and nearly all his men were falling off their horses when they reached the capital. Thinking of Myrna gave Gregor all the energy he needed to keep going. The sweet lady would make everything better_. No more pain... give me relief, pretty thing._ Outside the walls of the capital the guards knew who Ser Gregor was immediately and allowed him and his men to enter without stopping.

Soon he had dismissed his men and rushed towards the Red Keep. Once again, the guards outside the walls of the royal castle knew Ser Gregor and he was allowed in with no trouble. He had not expected this certain person to greet him once he had entered.

"Ser Gregor," Queen Regent Cersei called to him gently. Her hands were folded over her stomach and she glanced up at the tall knight. Cersei could usually hide fear well, but her mask wavered whenever he was near her. That was not surprising to him. "Meet me in the courtyard in an hour. You will have what you want," she did not wait for an answer and quickly turned around as she walked back to wherever she came. Gregor watched her golden curls fall around her shoulders and his eyes traveled down the curves of Cersei's body. He licked his lips, but refused to think of anymore thoughts about her as he reminded himself he had now finally had what he desired for so long. For an hour, he paced around the Red Keep before heading towards the courtyard. Thoughts raced through his head the entire time, and somehow he had kept his usual headache at bay. More green filled the area as he neared the courtyard. On either side of him were bushes taller than he, and in the distance he heard water trickling in a fountain. When he turned the corner he stopped as his eyes feasted on the lady sitting with the queen by the pond.

The dark eyes he pictured inside his head was now physically in front of him. Myrna had her eyes set on the queen as they were in the middle of a conversation. Her dark curls were long and plainly fell around her shoulders. The purple dress she wore brought out the darkness in her eyes and hair, but also he could see that the dress amplified her womanly figure. Finally he was noticed when he saw Cersei turn her head towards his direction.

"Ah, here he is! Ser-" and what followed confused him.

After all those years, Myrna Beaumont and him locked eyes but instead of those fearless dark eyes he remembered he saw a crushed girl. Myrna screamed and nearly made Cersei fall over. As quickly as she wailed, Myrna fell over and landed hard on the ground. The lady fainted just by the sight of him.

_No..._ Gregor felt anger instead of pleasure. _No...!_ He marched towards the lady and knelt down beside her, reaching his arm around her and lifting her up slightly by the shoulders. Squinting, he leered at the girl's pretty sleeping face but did not find her to be as appealing as he had hoped due to her reaction.

"You're not supposed to fear me..." Gregor said harshly under his breath.

Cersei and some other bystanders had neared them but knew better than to get too close. He heard the Queen Regent clear her throat. "I will have someone come and bring her to her room," she told Gregor.

"No. You will show me where her room lies," he stood up and now held Myrna in both arms. The girls arms dangled off to the side and her head hung back, but he did not care so much now that she had disappointed him. Without saying anything, Cersei began walking back inside the castle and paced through many hallways and staircases but Gregor remembered the way with ease. He would need to remember so he can return to her in the future. As they made it to the final hallway he had met a certain someone's gaze and he nearly dropped Myrna. The mutt was standing against the wall and eyed them closely as he seemed to try and figure out what had happened. His good eye went to the girl in his arms and Gregor saw his brother's face soften for a second. That made him question about the relationship between his brother and Myrna, but he heard a door open and Cersei gestured that this was her chamber.

Without saying anything, Gregor marched into her room and heard the door close behind him. The lady's bed was made and he went to lay her down onto it, but not gently. Myrna bounced as she was dropped a few feet above her bed. He noticed the door to her wardrobe was open, and he went to close it sharply before returning to gaze at her. Gregor let out a massive sigh and rubbed his face and went to sit on the edge of her bed. The bed sunk deep from him being so heavy and the girl slightly fell towards him and one of her legs touched him. Gregor looked at her leg and started to lift up the skirt of her dress but stopped himself. _This is not the way I want it_, he realized. Gregor's eyes traveled up her body and he stopped at her face. _I will give you another chance..._ he decided. Suddenly, he remembered what happened the last time he gave a Beaumont a second chance. As if he could not control himself, Gregor began to trace his large fingers across the girls legs through her skirt and felt himself grow light. _Myrna will be mine and gaze upon me with those eyes of hers. She will not fear me_, he ignored his doubts and let his dark heart guide him.

AN: Finally, an update! Now we are at the beginning of where I started my other fan fiction so it should go smoothly from here. Thank you for reading, and reviews would be lovely. Game of Thrones belongs to George R.R. Martin.


	5. Chapter 5

These dark hallways were eerie, but to Gregor this place seemed rather fitting for him. Harrenhal could fit giants comfortably, and he was nearly considered one. As he paced through the massive rooms filled with shadows his nose was filled with the smell of blood. Death was all around Gregor as him and his company had killed Vargo Hoat's men so they could retake Harrenhal for the Lannister's. For now, he would reside here for another day as Tywin and King Joffrey dealt with Stannis back at the capital. His mind often wandered off to Myrna who was still residing at the capital, but Tywin insisted on keeping her at the capital where she would be safe. Gregor stopped when he saw he had stepped in a pool of blood and started to scrape his boot against a cleaner surface on the floor to rid of the fresh stain. Annoyed, he continued on and found his way outside which was not much brighter than inside the walls of Harrenhal. Heavy, dark clouds passed by and allowed no sun to filter through and a sharp gust of wind went right through Gregor despite his armor. All the way down at the bottom of the tall steps Gregor started to pace down to where his men had set up camp. Inside the stench was horrible from the corpses so they had decided to wait out their quest outside the walls.

The men hushed when Gregor approached, and he noticed something out of place. "Someone's missing," he boomed down at them.

"Aye, the new guy left..." one answered.

Nodding, Gregor paced over to the man who responded and saw fear had its hold on the man. "And you did not try to stop him?" he leered down at the man as Gregor put a hand on the hilt of his sword.

Leaving Gregor was not an option. Once you became one of his men, you stay loyal to him until the day you perish. The last time Gregor had let a man escape was seven years ago, Myrna's older brother. There was still no sign of him, but Gregor was still eager to find him and put him in the ground. He would cherish the moment, of course, and not just slide his sword into the boy as he usually did with most people he murdered. Perhaps he would make Myrna watch.

"I'm sorry, ser..." the man did not know what else to say as he lifted his hand up as if that could protect himself from Gregor.

Slowly, Gregor loosened his grip on the hilt of his sword and went to scratch his beard. "Sorry, eh? Then go bring me his head unless you want me to bring yours to that whore you fucked at the last inn," he growled. The man looked confused. "_NOW!_" Gregor spat, his face turning red as he roared down at the man. In a split second the man was up and running out of the gates of Harrenhal, too scared to even mount his horse that he rode on to come here.

This was enough. Gregor did not have the patience to wait anymore and he needed Myrna by his side. He still had enough milk of the poppy left for a few more days if need be, but the girl's presence was a thousand times more effective than any bottle of potion Gregor had ever swallowed for his pain and agitation. Ser Gregor marched onward towards the exit of the cursed ruins of Harrenhal with the company of the remaining men by his side.

The thick air made it difficult for the men to breathe. Along the edge of the green, mucky lake, called God's Eye, they traveled at a normal pace southward towards the capital. Moisture was heavy in the air and Gregor felt uncomfortable but he pushed himself onward as he rode his horse. There was something else making the large man uncomfortable as well, but he could not say what. He felt as if they were being watched, but he ignored that as much as he could until some of his men started to complain about the area. Some retold the tales of spooks in the area but Gregor put a quick end to that foolishness with a bark commanding silence. He twisted his head back and glared at his men as they continued riding down south and they were now silent, but their eyes were not on Gregor. They all stopped their horses but Gregor's horse continued trotting along and when he turned his head forward he halted his horse to a rough stop as well. The large knight nearly let out a raspy gasp.

Right in front of him was the severed head of the man he had sent to go after the one who had abandoned Gregor right before they entered Harrenhal. His brown eyes were rolled back, as if they were staring up at something in the sky. The mouth wide open, and the pink, dry tongue hanging out. A few feet off to the left was an arm, and the finger pointed towards the pine woods they were traveling around. _A bloody trick_, Gregor forced himself to believe. His dark eyes squinted into the shadows of the woods but he could not see anything.

"One of you, go see what lies there..." he boomed back at them while tilting his head towards the direction of the woods.

They blinked at one another. "Fuck that," one managed to say as his horse began trotting backwards.

Gregor grimaced and turned his horse around and began galloping at full speed into the woods. "You better not be there when I return!" he threatened his men with a roar and before he knew it he was inside the woods. Darkness cloaked him and now it was even more difficult to breathe. His chest lifted and rested as he tried to swallow up as much air as he could. He decided to jump off his horse and investigate on foot in case he would need to kill someone. Gregor already had his sword in his hand, and he was ready to attack the person who slew one of his men. _Perhaps it was the new man? Seven hells, I'll rape the little bitch bloody..._ he made himself angry and began walking faster, deeper into the woods. Honestly, Gregor did not want to kill for vengeance. He just needed the rush of adrenaline that flowed through his body when he was in the middle of a battle. These pains were tiresome, and Gregor was always in need of some kind of relief. _Why can't she be here with me? Why couldn't I take her?_ His grip tightened, making his leather gauntlets creak.

Something whistled behind Gregor Clegane.

Whirling around, Gregor nearly stumbled but he finally saw who the culprit was. His blood boiled, and he could feel the heat in his face as he turned red. How could he have not seen this coming? _You stupid dog_, Gregor thought to himself but he readied his sword and he was ready to kill this man. He had waited so long for this moment, and he would cherish every little second of it.

"You killed my man..." Gregor rumbled as he took a step closer to the man before him.

His dark eyes sparkled, just like the white steeled armor that he wore as a tiny ray of light managed to peak through the trees. Ironically, the sun had shown itself during this dark moment between the two men who had terrible ties to one another.

"Blaming me again? You could do us a favor and be more original during this round..." Nicholas Beaumont stepped closer to Gregor as well and smirked. He had aged some, but he kept himself as fit as he had been the first time they met. Perhaps he was even stronger now, but Gregor could not tell. Not yet. Suddenly, Gregor felt that feeling again. He was being watched, but not by Nicholas. Slowly his head turned to either side of him and he saw men appearing from behind trees. He was completely outnumbered. _So this is what he means by "us"..._ Gregor growled with irritation. _It don't matter, I will kill them all. _Actually, Gregor let himself smile after his growl and he let out a deep chuckle. Nicholas lifted his chin and gave Gregor a curious look. "What's so funny?" he asked.

Gregor pointed his sword around the trees towards the men who had appeared. "You expect these mice to kill The Mountain?" he pounded his chest with his free hand when he referred to himself.

"Not today," Nicholas chirped. The sound of his voice made him sound as if he had the confidence that they _could _kill him, though, and that made Gregor angry. "I came to personally send you a message. The capital is not your destination," he said to Gregor.

Losing his patience, Gregor replied while taking a few steps towards Nicholas. "And who are you to tell me where my destination is? Do you even know who is at the capital?" he sneered.

"I know who is not," Nicholas replied calmly and Gregor stopped walking.

"What do you mean?"

"You know what I mean," his dark eyes were glued onto the Mountain's confused face.

_Is he trying to say that..._ the thought made Gregor sick. His free hand rubbed a temple and he turned around and walked slowly towards nothing as he tried to organize his thoughts."Is she dead?" he asked Nicholas despite not facing him anymore. Gregor could not face him. This feeling he had in his chest was nothing he had ever felt before, and it made him feel ashamed.

"Of course not!" Nicholas laughed. "My sister belongs to me, mutt, and I refuse to have you Clegane's have her..." his voice changed drastically after the laugh. It was deep, serious and almost frightening. Gregor turned around and glared hard at Nicholas, puzzled by what he just said. "Did you not hear? Your dear little brother took off with her during the battle. Only the Seven know where they are at the moment, but I will find her and I swear neither you or your puppy brother will lay hands on her ever _again_! I will take back what you took from the Beaumont's and I will take more than we need because we deserve just that. My sister and I will overthrow anyone who stands in our way, including you..." the lad threatened the tall knight with eyes that were so cold and dark.

Blood rushed to his face again, and he knew his face was deep red. "Sandor?" he grumbled his brother's name. He blinked hard and started to pace in a circle. _The way he looked at me when I held_ _her back at the capital... I fucking knew it._ Then he made his decision and he walked his way back to where he left his horse, and all the eyes followed him. They were no threat to him so he paid them no mind as he finally mounted his tall, dark horse. It was at that moment where Gregor had given up the chance to kill someone for the first time and had found something more important to be done. Myrna Beaumont needed to be by his side, not by Sandor's nor by this lad confronting him.

"Did you not hear me!?" Nicholas screamed.

Gregor acknowledged him one last time before leaving. "You hurt her when I commanded you to return her to me safely. I'm better for her than you ever will be, you little cunt. But don't think I'm done with you..." and with that he kicked his horse to a gallop. The race between him and Nicholas for Myrna Beaumont and his little brother began.

AN: My apologies for not updating as quick as I used to, I will try to update as quick as I can but my life has become busier now that summer is ending. Please follow and leave reviews, I will appreciate it with all my heart. Watch for chapter six! Thanks for reading!


	6. Chapter 6

Fortunately for The Mountain, his men did not abandon him. They were fearful, of course, for he had threatened to kill them if they remained there. Where else were they to go, though? Gregor slowed down his horse and trotted in a straight line in front of his men, staring coldly at each and one of them. He was doing his best to think as clearly as he could manage. Where could Sandor have possibly taken Myrna? Why is he with her? Questions interfered with his thinking process, and he stopped his horse when he reached the end of his group of men. The Mountain stared up at the clouds that were starting to break apart, letting more and more sun shine down on them. Then he turned to face his men.

"My brother has become... _a problem_," he grumbled as he squinted at his men.

His men eyed each other cautiously, but were quick to nod in agreement. "What are we to do, boss?" a voice somewhere within the group forced a question.

Gregor kicked his horse and he began trotting slowly again towards the other end of the group. "No one knows his whereabouts, so you all will split up and hunt for him on your own. You will return to me _immediately _if you find out anything," he stopped once again and made his horse face his men with a pull on the reins, making his horse neigh. "The man who gives me information that rightly leads me to the mutt will be paid generously," he added. That was enough to lift the spirits of his men. Gregor gave a specific area to each man, and dismissed them eagerly after telling them he will be waiting at Clegane's Keep. After he had watched them depart, Gregor kicked his horse and off he went back home.

...

"Freak!" a small voice cried out.

He spun around, not knowing what was going on. That voice was terribly familiar. Gregor took a few steps but was halted to a stop when a small boy ran in front of him. His chest tightened when he recognized who it was. Then he saw who the boy was bullying.

His age was nine, but the boy could pass for much older. Young Gregor had always been tall, and could never recall a time where he had been treated as a normal child. He was looking at himself as a small lad, and he was not entirely proud of what he was witnessing. This was a memory, but it felt as if he were reliving it. He saw fear in his own young eyes, something that was rare today. In the hands of the bully was a rock, and he was quick to lunge it at young Gregor's head. "Aye, look at that! I should be awarded for being able to hit a target so high!" he made an ugly noise that sounded like a snort. He watched himself be degraded. How he wish he had become who he was sooner. But today was the day, he knew. In the middle of the boy's hideous laughter he was not able to see that young Gregor had been prepared that day. Fear turned to hate, and soon the bully was coughing up blood. His first kill. The boy fell to the ground, and had laughed his last laugh. Then the dagger young Gregor had stolen from his father dropped to the ground with a clink and he stared at his bloody hands. He watched his younger self walk by him as if in a state of trance and disappear along with everything else surrounding him.

Gregor's heavy eyes opened and he looked around the room as he straightened his head from its sleeping position. He had fallen asleep on a chair inside his bed chamber. The fire burning in the brazier was growing dim, and he assumed it was in the late hours. A memory that often played in his head came to him when he stared at that brazier. Only now the memory was stronger, more vivid. His brother had only become more of a nuisance and he needed to put an official end to him. Gregor had come to regret not killing the mutt more now in the past week.

With a long groan, Gregor rubbed his temples as he had awoken with his usual headache. When he went to look at his night stand he saw that he had gone through all of the milk of the poppy left for him there. Another groan escaped his lips and he tilted his head back and stared at the ceiling. How long has it really been? Ever since he returned home he had locked himself in his room and only thought of leaving when it meant going to the place where his brother was. Where _she_ was. He had commanded everyone inside the keep not to intrude unless it was about the news he was waiting impatiently for. Roughly, he decided to stand up and nearly knocked over his chair. He clumsily paced his room, his mind cluttered with thoughts. The pain, his brother, and this strange feeling that held him so tight when he thought of Myrna Beaumont. _I'm going insane_, he thought and nearly laughed but instead looked around the empty room. _I'm the mad dog. Of course I'm insane._ His thoughts were bitter, but he was far used to that. At least, he would like to think that he was. Then came a knock on the door. Everything went still.

Gregor ripped his door open and he was nearly panting when he gazed down at the person whom he believed to come to inform him on his brother. The person he saw was not any of his men, nor was the person a man at all. Gregor had to blink twice to see if he was truly seeing what was in front of him. His hand slid down the door and his arm went limp. Immediately he felt his body start to relax. He was too relaxed, and felt himself start to fall but the girl had caught him. Black curls brushed across his face as she struggled to lay him in his bed. Gregor was nearly to the floor as the girl helped him there, but he felt comfort after he had been placed on his bed that was almost too small for him. His knees hung over the edge, and he managed to open his eyes one more time to look at the girl.

"Myrna..." he croaked, and his hand reached out to her.

"Who?" the female voice replied.

His chest ached once he realized his mistake. The girl was not the one he was searching for, but a wench that worked in his keep. Her hair was similar to Myrna's, but that was all. She had a terrible underbite and her nose was flat, making her face not pleasant to look upon. Gregor inhaled an angry, shaky breathe. "Out," he commanded, but his voice sounded weak.

"You have not eaten in three days, ser," she softly told him as she went back out in the hall to fetch what smelled like rabbit stew. The smell became stronger once he heard her footsteps return. He knew a hot bowl of stew was waiting for him nearby and a pang of pain filled his stomach. "I shall return with your milk of the poppy," she said once she glanced at his night stand and left his room, without shutting the door.

Yes, he was starving. Gregor had not realized how long it had been since he had a bite to eat. Yet, he could not get up. Laying there on his feather bed Gregor stared up at the ceiling. _Bloody hell..._ he cursed in his head. _Bloody hell... bloody hell..._ Soon, he heard her footsteps come down the hall but she sounded like she was running. When she entered, Gregor lifted himself up slightly using his elbows and gave the wench a hard stare. Her eyes were big, but she did not say anything as she turned around to allow a man walk in. One of his men, and he wore a big smile on his face.

AN: I apologize again for not updating for quite some time. Just so you know, I never intend on abandoning this story. Please follow and you will hear the full story, I promise. Thanks for keeping up and look forward to the next chapter.


	7. Chapter 7

"Where?" Gregor Clegane croaked, and felt beads of sweat roll their way down his face. His arms shook as he supported himself up so he can look at the informant straight in the eye.

"Riverlands," the informant replied with a cheerful grin.

_The Riverlands... bloody seven hells. We were just there!_ Gregor pushed himself up, knocking over the tray that held his food. A sharp shatter filled the silent room as the hot rabbit stew spilled all over the floor and sharp pieces of the clay bowl lay amongst the broth and rabbit meat. As Gregor made his way towards the door the informant and the wench stepped backwards and out of the room in order to allow Gregor enough room to go where he intended.

"But ser, you are still not well-" the wench became too loose with her tongue, and right when Gregor was close enough his hand wrapped around her little neck and squeezed. Her eyes became large with panic, nearly bulging out of the sockets. First her cheeks turned red, and then purple. Small gasps escaped her opened mouth but soon that came to a stop along with her kicking. Her hands that were grabbing onto his arms with a futile attempt to escape soon became limp and swayed back and forth next to her. When he let go the wench collapsed onto the floor with a thud, lifeless. It was as though her life bought him some. Gregor at once felt the energy he needed to travel and find what he needed.

He took a step towards his man that gave him this new piece of information. The informant immediately gave Gregor his full attention with ease. "Send a raven to the rest of my men that are within a day's ride of here. We leave as soon as they arrive. Make haste," Gregor boomed his command down at him. With a nod, he watched the informant hurry out to fulfill his duty.

The next morning Gregor Clegane marched out of his room equipped in a full suit of armor and let his bedchamber door slam behind him. In his pocket was a bottle of substance he had asked from the maester inside his keep. His fingers examined the bottle, making sure he had it with him. It should help him with his endeavors later on. When he made his way through the halls and towards the gate of the Clegane's Keep he did not hear anything but his armor clanking and his boots stomping against the hard ground. Bystanders kept their heads low and made sure to keep their distance from the lord of Clegane's Keep. He would not hold such power if his father still lived, so he made sure that he had a hold of that power sooner rather than later. It was obvious that his father did not die in an accident, and also that every other person in the family has died some sort of death from an accident at one point. All except the mutt, but that was soon going to change. His blade will taste another family member. A hand turned into a fist when he thought of his little brother fucking his woman. What else would a man do with a pretty woman as Myrna Beaumont, all alone in the Riverlands? His thoughts became less restless as he saw a good amount of men waiting for him by the gate. He quickened his pace and pointed to the stables outside of the gate as he lead them out. All mounted a horse, and Gregor had his massive black horse. It had no name, but this horse had suited him for some years now. When he was comfortable in his saddle, Gregor peered over his men to search for the informant who had been with him the night before and when he found him he gestured the man to come closer.

"Ser," the informant acknowledged Gregor with a small bow as his horse trotted closer to Gregor's.

"Tell us all you know, and then we depart with you leading us," Gregor declared. His eyes were hard as he awaited the details.

The informant nodded and kept his gaze down low as the morning sun from the east made it difficult for him to look up. "Sandor Clegane is in a party of four people. The other three are all woman. One appears to be a Dornish whore, but she knows how to put up a fight. Be wary of her. Then there is one who is but a child. No one really knows who the child is, and she is often mistaken for a boy. And then there's the young noble lady who doesn't look too noble. Myrna Beaumont it appears to be, but she is dressed as a man would be with pants and all. She has a blade, too, I heard. Best keep your eye on her as well, she may know how to use the thing..." he stopped talking and kicked his horse to a gallop towards the north east. All followed immediately with a rumble of hooves pushing against the earth. All but Gregor. It took Gregor a couple seconds to let all that sink in. A distant voice caught his attention. "Boss! I expect my reward as soon as this is done, ya!?" he heard the informant that told the details yell from afar. Gregor then pulled roughly on the reins of the horse and kicked it to a gallop as well. He followed his men all the way in the back of the group, not wanting to be bothered. _Pants? The mutt is making Myrna wear pants?_ Gregor was confused. _And a blade too? Has she actually used the thing? _Then he thought about the other two people accompanying them. Nothing could have prepared him to think there would be more people in the picture. Why would he need a whore if he was fucking Myrna, and why in the seventh bloody hell would he keep a child around? These thoughts bounced around in his head, causing him to have a headache. His headache was not too bad, however, as the one little thought of having Myrna in his arms soon made the pain float away. How could a lady make everything so better? Once Gregor recognized them entering the territory of the Riverlands he felt something he rarely felt. It was that same racing feeling in his chest. The heart that people often said he did not own began to beat like a drum. It will be soon now. Myrna Beaumont will soon be beside him.

Suddenly, Gregor whipped the reins on his horse and flew past all his men so he could catch up with the informant leading the mob. When he was beside that man's horse, he commanded them all to halt. When they all properly came to a stop Gregor Clegane climbed off his horse, and the rest followed. "The rest of the journey will be on foot. You, continue to lead on..." he gestured at the informant and they journeyed farther into the forests and humid air of the Riverlands. Gregor had always found a fight better on two legs rather than four. A horse either made a battle too easy or too difficult. Gregor Clegane was known for violence, but what most do not know is that he is picky with how he kills. The kill has to be just right. When they were deep in a forest of a pine trees the informant finally stopped and raised his hand so the men behind him would do the same. Gregor gritted his teeth as he saw two people near a white and brown horse that fitted the description of the Dornish whore and the young child. It seemed the whore had just climbed off her horse to speak with the child. At once, Gregor gestured a command that told his men to circle the area. Quietly they did as they were told, and when the two soon-to-be victims had their back turned towards him he made his way at them, sword ready in hand. When they heard his footsteps it was too late.

"Wait! _Please!_" the Dornish whore screamed as Gregor grabbed the greasy brown hair on the child and held his blade at her white neck. He could feel her squirm, a feeling that he had always enjoyed. "Please... Don't hurt her..." she continued to plead, but sternly and with her hands in front of her as if she were trying to calm him down. Gregor could tell she had some kills herself from the way she moved.

Gregor tightened his grip on the hilt of his sword. "No closer, bloody whore..." he rasped. She immediately stopped moving. With a sharp whistle all his men appeared from their hiding spots and with that came the defeated expression on the Dornish whore's face. Gregor smiled. "Now if you don't tell me where the dog is this very second I'm afraid I can't keep this little one alive," Gregor threatened the whore, his tone so deep he sounded like he was gurgling.

With a heavy frown, the whore pointed in the direction where the mutt apparently had went. He did not need to ask where Myrna was, as he knew that his little brother would not keep her too far from him. When he received what he wanted, he put his sword back in its sheath that hung on his hip and flung his free fist into the young girl's stomach and watched her drop to the floor with a cry. The dornish whore screamed as two men went to pin her down, but she had successfully slashed one man's face with a dagger she had on her. Another man came into the action and the three of them were just enough to pin her down. Gregor drew his sword once more, and fear was written on the whore's exhausted face. "No! Please! Don't kill her..." she almost continued on until she saw him walking away from the young girl. Then she realized he was walking towards her horse. "_Wait!_" she cried out, almost sounding more frightened for the life of that horse than the girl. Gregor grabbed his sword with two hands, holding it high above his head. With a deep cry, Gregor let the sword fly down at full speed and the sword cut nearly through the horses neck. The whore's yell joined in with Gregor's cry and the horse's dying neigh. She started to sob immediately after the job was done.

"You should not have resisted," he told the whore. She stopped her sobs and her eyes filled with anger as she watched him go back to the young girl and carry her under one arm. "Rise," he commanded, but she did not have to do anything as the men holding her down forced her to stand on her feet. Gregor marched towards her, and bent over to grab the dagger she had used to cut one of his men's faces. The whore stared back and forth between the dagger and Gregor's face with a disgusted expression after he stood back up with it facing her. She hated him. Then he put the dagger to her throat and she closed her wandering, brown eyes as if she was waiting to die. "When they release you, you immediately come to me. One wrong move and you die. Understood?" he asked, but did not expect an answer. She was released, and did as she was told. In one arm he held the young girl, and with the other he had the Dornish whore under his command. He told the informant to go in the direction the whore said that Sandor had wandered off to, but he returned immediately saying that both him and Myrna Beaumont were on their way on a horse. "All of you, back to where you were. Don't come out until I command it!" he ordered them and soon all had seemed to disappear. Gregor roughly forced the Dornish whore to hide with him behind a pine tree and ordered her to be silent.

Almost as soon as they had hidden behind the pine tree came the trotting of horse hooves and then the trotting stopped. "Poor thing," he heard a small voice say. His heart began pounding.

"Someone is near. Watch yourself, little bird..." he heard a voice rasp. A voice so similar to his that it made him sick. The mutt was right there, along with his woman. He could take it no more, and forced his way out from behind the pine tree to greet them.

AN: Here you go! The seventh chapter is finally up. Please tell me how you feel about this different POV, and if you did not read my first story "The Killer in Me is the Killer in You" I recommend you read that to see this story through a whole different picture. I hope you enjoy the rest of the story, I believe there will be a couple more chapters left before this story ends. Thank you so much and look forward to chapter 8!


	8. Chapter 8

"Found you," Gregor rumbled. Their eyes widened with surprise. First he took in Myrna Beaumont. What the informant said was true. The noble lady was wearing a tunic and pants, and in her hand was a dagger. Yet, she was beautiful to him and the sight of her soothed him. Her hair was full of bouncy curls, dark as night. This time she did not faint at the sight of him and her big, black eyes clung to his face. "The young lady comes with me and they live, or else you all will die," he told the two of them. Gregor watched with disappointment as Myrna took her eyes off of him and gave them to Sandor. His brother's eyes were filled with hatred, and he returned that hatred.

Sandor was gritting his teeth. "Gregor," he muttered. His brother readied his sword and looked as if he were about to attack, but Myrna did the opposite. She lowered her dagger and she looked speechless. Still, she did not seem faint at all as she did when he first saw her at the capital. This was a relief for Gregor. He had a chance.

"I gave you your choices," Gregor spat. He was growing impatient, and what he wanted was right in front of him. So close within reach. "Don't make me wait long, or else you won't have any women you little shit," his attention went back to Sandor aggressively. Without realizing it he began shoving the dagger deeper into the Dornish whore's neck and she made small, frightened noises. Suddenly, Sandor charged but he was pulled back. Myrna wrapped her small hands around his little brother's arm warmly. In return, Sandor pushed her away but stopped his attack. Gregor darted his eyes back and forth between them, not having a clue on what to make of this. Did they truly have feelings for each other? Why would Sandor push her away? These thoughts grew to be tiresome, and his brother's words only made him more irritated.

Sandor took a single step closer to Gregor and the slick, red burn covering half his face twitched from him grimacing so hard. "There are other noble ladies to fuck, why do you need this one?" he retorted.

A cry came from under his arm, and Gregor did not realize his brother's words made him push the dagger into the Dornish whore's throat, making her neck trickle with blood.

"Stop!" Myrna Beaumont pleaded loudly. The pretty noble lady put away her dagger and began to take small steps towards him. Gregor began to blink rapidly. His chest rose and fell faster. "Please. Don't hurt anyone. I will come..." she promised as she continued to creep towards him cautiously, but this time it was Sandor that pulled her back. He gave her a disapproving shake with his head and looked as if he needed to tell her something, but he would not let Gregor hear anything.

He had to swallow back a laugh. "Let her go. She wants me," he smirked. This was beyond anything he had ever felt. He could not recall a time where he had felt so light. Myrna then let out a small cry as Sandor tightened his grip on her, but she ripped free and whispered something to him. He tried as best he could to hear what she was saying, but he was too far. Gregor felt his eyebrows pinch together, his smirk disappearing. Then she began walking again, and she stopped when she was in the middle of the two Clegane brother's. Her and Gregor looked into each other's dark eyes.

"You must promise me that these people will remain unharmed when I come with you..." Myrna sweetly asked.

_Who does she think I am?_ Gregor decided it was best to play along. _No matter. As long as I have you._ He gave a slight shrug. "As you wish," he grumbled. He dropped the child who was now well enough to stand on her own, and he pushed the Dornish whore away from him. "Do not touch her, or I will kill you..." he warned the child and whore. The three girls examined each other, and he could tell they wanted to speak with one another. Reluctantly, the whore grabbed a tight hold on the child and went over to where Sandor was standing with haste. His brother had never given him such an angry stare. The scar pulled the skin on the rest of his face, making his already hideous face even more disturbing to look upon. _I'm the better one for her_, he silently told them all. _Better than all of you._ Without needing to wait anymore, he gestured Myrna Beaumont to approach him. With every step she took he felt his heart beat a little faster. Then she was finally there with one final step. Her chin rose so she could look up at him, and her black eyes wide with a mixture of anxiety and perhaps a little curiosity. A gust of wind came and her dark curls bounced wildly all around her pretty but pale face. Gregor bent over and grabbed a hold of her waist, picking her up and throwing her over his shoulder. His hands felt her back, and something felt wrong, but he paid no mind. He could hear a gasp escape from her mouth. Then something sharp hit his shoulder with a _clink_, and that was when he saw her dagger and thought about what the informant said. Immediately after he took it off of her, he looked back at the small party she was with that were glaring at them. He smiled devilishly. "Kill them," he commanded his men, and turned around to walk back towards where the horses were while examining her dagger. _An Oak tree..._ he noticed one inscribed on her blade. Myrna screamed and kicked as they listened to the battle between his men and Myrna's friends grow more distant with every large step Gregor took. She called him names, but that did not matter. Myrna was there. The Beaumont's noble daughter was now his, and the people that took her from him were now being slaughtered behind them.

When the sound of clashing swords and daggers disappeared he decided now would be a good time. Myrna had quieted down some, and he took her from his shoulder and held her in one arm as if she were like a babe. However, before he could grab what he intended on getting he felt a sharp pain on his cheek. The Beaumont girl had slapped him.

Gregor's free hand went to rub his cheek. Then he gave her a confused stare. Why was he not angry? In fact, he had thought of this as humorous. Her slapping him was like a meek kitten scratching a horse. "Is that how you greet an old friend?" he asked her, and continued on to what he was doing before. He finally found it, and pulled the small bottle out of his pocket. The girl saw what he was holding and saw panic fill her eyes.

"You can't make me," she shakily exclaimed.

_Hmph_, he thought. With his teeth he pulled the top off making a popping noise and went to pour the substance in her mouth but she fought back. Then he spit the top of the bottle to the dirt so he could speak. "You will," he rumbled. _This will make it easier for both of us. I will know the truth, and you won't give me anymore trouble on the way home._

"I'd rather die!" she hissed in his face. That was when yet another new feeling surprised him. _Why does it feel like my chest is sinking?_ He felt his arm go limp but he made sure the bottle did not spill the substance that was within it. Gregor did not how to respond. "What? Did I hurt your feelings? Wait, you have none!" Myrna continued to prattle like a child, and she swiftly turned her face away from him but he kept his eyes on her. Perhaps this was anger he was feeling, but this was not like any anger he had felt before. Gregor had control over himself. With any other person he would have sliced them to pieces after offending him, but he could not even think of doing that to this young lady. He decided to continue talking with her.

"I will marry a lady, not a child..." and after that he waited for her to face him again but she would not. "Are you still that child I met long ago?" he rose his voice, intending on sounding mean.

That made her look in his direction again, but he did not expect the expression she had on her face. She looked almost dead. "You killed that child," she said softly. Her dark eyes barely moved, and her lips in a very subtle frown.

Gregor squinted his eyes as he examined her. "Me?" he asked. Inside his head he quickly went through everything he remembered from that day. Sure, her brother Nicholas was thrown in a shitty situation thanks to him. However, all he could think of was that small smack he gave her so he could let her live without ruining his reputation. "A bump on the head is something I rarely do," he commented. _You should be grateful for everything I've done_, he added in his thoughts. Once again he tried to pour the substance into her mouth but she slapped it away.

"I SAID..." she yelled but he took that opportunity with her mouth open to force the substance inside her mouth. The rest of her words were a gurgle following by some swishing noises as she refused to swallow but eventually she did give up. Myrna's nose wrinkled up when she swallowed the substance and her cheeks began to turn pink. After that task was complete he let her fall to the ground and wait for the potion to kick in. Just some feet away he found a boulder to rest against while the girl was forced to fall into a special slumber. Myrna continued to try and stand up, but she fell with every attempt. She squirmed like a worm after, and finally she relaxed and turned over on her back. Gregor could barely see her face, but from what he can see he could tell she was terrified. That sinking feeling returned in his chest. Gregor adjusted himself and began to feel very uncomfortable. _What in seven hells... what is this feeling?_ Every time he would look at her the feeling only grew worse. _Am I feeling guilty?_ He could only guess as he had never felt this feeling before in his life. So many new emotions he had experienced in such a short amount of time. It nearly exhausted the massive man. Then Gregor finally climbed to his feet after he saw Myrna had completely relaxed and her eyes were now closed. Myrna looked incredibly peaceful despite how dirty she was and how wild her hair laid around her face. Gregor took in a deep breath. _All he said I had to do was say a name and she will speak her mind..._ he recalled his meeting with the maester. Was he truly ready for the truth? Would this even work?

The large knight went to his knees and leaned in so close to her face that he could feel her soft breath hit his own face. "Sandor Clegane," he spoke the name bitterly.

Myrna's face tightened as if she were experiencing some kind of pain. Gregor lifted himself up so he could see more of her. _What does this mean?_ Gregor was not sure what to expect.

"Where... where are you?" she croaked. Her eyes remained close. "I should've... seen it by now..." her voice continued softly.

_She's talking in her sleep_, he blinked quickly as her voice had surprised him. "Seen what?" he asked in a low tone, not sure if she would respond.

"You..." she sounded surprised. Myrna smiled as if she had received a compliment. "I thought they killed you... Brenda and Arya?" she asked.

Gregor was still unsure of what was going on. "Who?" he asked.

"Brenda... Arya... Where are they?" she asked again, this time she sounded more concerned.

Those two names he knew were female names. Was she talking about the Dornish whore and the child? _Wait... if this is true..._ he started to put it together. _She thinks I'm fucking Sandor! And Arya... That name is so familiar... There was a Stark girl named Arya, wasn't there?_ Now he put even more pieces of the puzzle together. _That child was bounty. The Starks are worth a fortune. Bloody hells! _When he looked at her face again he saw that she was blushing and smiling like a maiden. That was when he knew for sure. Myrna Beaumont had fallen in love with his little brother, Sandor Clegane.

AN: Hello! I have extra time right now so I decided to post another chapter right away. Also, I can now say how long I think this story will be. Expect around 12 chapters, more or less. For those of you who read "The Killer in Me is the Killer in You" know what happens to Gregor and why his POV will be much shorter than the original story. Hope I don't disappoint! Please review and look forward to chapter 9!


	9. Chapter 9

"The preparations for your wedding... for your _fourth_ wedding, mind you... are now complete," the calming voice from his master echoed in his chamber. Tywin Lannister's green glassy eyes met Gregor's when he exaggerated what number this marriage was for Gregor, but Gregor did not give a damn. His green eyes were quick to peer back down at his desk as he scratched away on a piece of paper with a feathered ink pen. It seemed he did little else but work. Gregor had heard once that the Hand of the King had long days, but short lives. However, it was hard to imagine the great Tywin Lannister dying anytime soon. Something told Gregor that Tywin was not finished speaking with him so he stood there standing tall with his brown eyes leering down at his master. Then the feathered ink pen was set down gently, and Tywin intertwined his fingers as he leaned forward to rest on his desk. "Can you tell me why none of your men have returned yet?" he asked with a voice that sounded humble, but underneath Gregor knew there was anger.

Back at the Riverlands when Gregor unleashed his men on Myrna's traveling party they were meant to travel back to the capital immediately after they finished their job. None have showed up since Gregor had arrived, and that was a whole day ago.

"There is a small chance Sandor was strong enough to kill them," Gregor mumbled as his eyes strayed away from his master uncomfortably.

Tywin gave Gregor a long, solid stare that seemed to pierce right through the giant man. He did not need to look; he could feel his master's eyes staring him down despite Gregor being much taller. "You are becoming more troublesome than helpful, Clegane. One more incident and I will have to start treating you like any other petty knight," he strictly told Gregor. "Believe me, Clegane. After the things you have done, you do not want to see the consequences any other man would face. After this marriage is over with I need you to take your wife home and go back to work without any more requests that will end up with my men dying unnecessary deaths. This is your last warning. Do you understand?"

Slowly Gregor turned his head back and gave his master a solemn glance. "Yes," he replied dully.

"Good," Tywin replied rather sharply and then he gave an exasperated sigh as he sat back in his chair. "The families of your late party will be informed of the _accident_... and new men will be assigned to you within the next few days. You may leave," he waved his hand and returned back to work as Gregor bowed and swiftly turned around to exit out of Tywin's chamber.

As Gregor paced loudly down the corridor his thoughts raced just as loudly through his head about the conversation he had with Tywin. A headache was coming on and he rubbed one of his temples with his gloved hand. It was not the deaths of his men that bothered him, but who was left alive. _This means the mutt is still breathing, and probably thinking of taking back Myrna._ Gregor tried to think of how he could deal with this. Tywin will probably no longer give Gregor permission to use his men for personal reasons. If he could guarantee no one would die in the process Gregor would just go ahead without saying a word, but his little brother was almost as fearsome as he was. _Almost..._ he told himself. _But not close enough. His blood will be dripping from my blade one day._

"Ser," a sweet, foreign voice caught his attention and he stopped to see a hand maiden approach him cautiously. "The lady has just awoken," she informed him as she stared up at him with eyes almost as pretty as Myrna's.

He was so lost in thought he did not realize he was approaching the bedchamber they had put Myrna in. Without saying anything to the lady, he marched over to the door and swung it open. To his surprise, he was not the only guest in the room.

"You..." Myrna glared at him as she sat up in her bed and she looked as if she were about to stand up. Her dark eyes were filled with anger, but her anger vanished when the Queen Regent spoke up and Myrna allowed herself sit back down.

Cersei Lannister was sitting on the end of Myrna's bed and gave her that hard look she was notorious for. "You will _sit_ and _obey_ your queen. I see that we will need to teach you how to be a good little lady again. Such a shame..." the Queen Regent stood up and paced gracefully towards Gregor and stopped when she reached his side. Her long, gold curls swayed as she turned her head back towards Myrna. "Don't worry. She will be a good wife, I promise you. That is our duty, after all..." and after her last words to Gregor, Cersei left the two of them alone.

Sadness now replaced the anger that filled Myrna's dark eyes. For a moment they stared at one another, not knowing what to say. Then as Myrna seemed to found the words she wanted to say she glanced over at the window in a gentle, almost weak, manner. "Where are they?" she asked him under her breathe.

Remembering the previous day when he had given her that potion sent an unnerving wave of guilt but anger throughout his body. _Of course she would ask were Sandor was_, he thought bitterly. Gregor would take pleasure in saying this next word to her. "Dead," he boomed a lie. None of his men returned, which could only mean Sandor and the wenches with him were strong enough to kill them but he could not let this sweet little dove know that. It was best for her to believe her friends were long gone so she can be his wife in peace.

Gregor watched for her reaction. At first there was none and Myrna simply kept her eyes glued on the window that was glowing orange from the sun setting in the west. Then her lip began to pout and tremble. Small gasps turned into quiet sobs as she held her wet face in her small hands. Gregor stood there for what seemed like forever and watched the girl cry. The more tears streamed down her flustered face the more it seemed his chest tightened. Suddenly, the massive knight could not take it anymore and left her alone in her chamber, slamming the door behind him. Outside her door he leaned against it and looked up at the ceiling, breathing heavily. "I lied. I lied. Don't cry... don't..." he whispered, so she would not hear his shame slipping out of his lips. He knew this was for the best, but why was it so damn hard?

"Ser Gregor?" he heard a woman's voice question from afar.

When he saw Cersei Lannister standing there elegantly with that rigid look in her green eyes, Gregor immediately straightened himself and looked in the opposite direction for a moment and then back at Cersei when he had his full composure back. "What is it?" he murmured deeply.

The Queen Regent held her hands in front of her as she paced slowly towards the giant knight. Her eyes would not look into his and would find other things to focus on as if she were afraid of what she would see if she would lift up her chin enough to see his face. "My son has lost his guard dog and is in need of another. No one is more fit than you to protect the King," her voice was as smooth as silk as she coaxed Gregor. The tall knight could not help but let his eyes travel down her womanly figure. "After you wed the northern girl I was hoping you would honor us as serving as King Joffrey's personal body guard. Of course, there is no need to answer me now. Please, think about it," she smiled slyly as she turned around and began walking down the corridor.

"You think I am my brother!?" Gregor roared. Cersei stopped and turned to face Gregor again, disguising the fear on her face with a frown.

"I pray you will not end up like him," she calmly stated and this time when she left her pace was much quicker, and her golden long locks disappeared around a corner. Once again Gregor was left alone, and this time more angry than anything. When he made it to his bedchamber he did not bother to take off his armor. Gregor swooped up some milk of the poppy that was left in its usual spot on his dresser and gulped it down. The bottle made a loud _bang_ as he set it down roughly back on the dresser and sprawled out on his back on his feather bed and his long legs hung off the edge. Pinching the bridge of his nose hoping the pain would subside, he found himself thinking of the day he made his first kill and soon he was seeing it. Painfully, Gregor watched his younger self stand over the corpse of the boy who had bullied him for years. The dagger was resting on the ground, covered in blood. It's smell was so strong and vile. _This was the day_, he remembered. Gregor followed his younger self home and could not make out anything else. Everything was so fuzzy around him_. I'm dreaming. But why this day? _Before he was home, he saw two familiar people. His mother was holding onto the hand of young Sandor. In her other arm she was carrying flowers that had bloomed for the spring, and a beautiful grin appeared on her face as she told Sandor to go along and play.

Then the scenery changed. Gregor found himself in the den where they had kept their toys and other various belongings when they were children. Sandor was sitting on the ground and in his hands was a wooden toy knight. Like any other lad, Sandor made the knight walk and fight invisible enemies. The knight crashed and Sandor would make the appropriate noise and cry out in an exaggerated yell. But now his fun had ended. Not for that day, but for the rest of his life as Gregor watched his younger self stomp into that room to find Sandor playing with his toy. _Everyone always stared at me._ Young Gregor picked up Sandor in his arms that were much too big for a child his age. _Everyone was always too afraid to love me._ Sandor screamed as he saw his older brother making his way towards the brazier.

_If no one can cherish me..._

Then the frightened screams turned into anguished ones.

_...then no one can cherish you, Sandor._

AN: Thanks for reading! For those who read my other story know that the big moment is coming up soon. Please follow so you can read how Gregor and Myrna's wedding turns out when I post the next chapter. There are only a few more chapters left and once again thank you for keeping up with my story! Game of Thrones of course belongs to George R. R. Martin.


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